


Necessary

by walkwithursus



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Resolution, Reunions, Tenderness, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkwithursus/pseuds/walkwithursus
Summary: Sometimes, a hug is exactly what is needed to heal a wound.
Relationships: Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 214





	Necessary

Nothing had changed at the house while Guillermo was gone. Not that Guillermo had really expected anything to; if Benji was to be believed, the place had remained relatively static for the last forty years. But for Guillermo, things felt different. _He_ felt different. A week apart from Nandor had felt like an eternity, and though they had come to a new sort of agreement that evening, the ground beneath them had never felt shakier. 

Moving forward after their separation would be like rebuilding after an earthquake, Guillermo reflected. It wasn’t going to be easy. Things between them had been rattled, possibly even broken, but a foundation remained. Eleven years of companionship and servitude didn’t just vanish overnight. With effort, he and Nandor could rebuild their relationship to be stronger, sturdier, able to withstand even the greatest tremors. The important thing was that they were both willing to work on it, and the thought filled Guillermo with a tentative hope.

Benji was loitering in Nandor’s room when they returned to the house that night, ready to perform the pre-coffin rituals. Nandor dismissed him as Guillermo hovered in the doorway, suddenly far more cognizant of the fact that he was covered in blood spatter. Nandor may not be observant enough to notice, but Benji was certain to. Then again, Benji was a familiar, and had to have ruined more than his fair share of garments with blood stains in his long life. Guillermo probably needn’t worry.

“Why don’t you go and rest, Benji?” Nandor suggested. “Guillermo has returned, so I no longer require your assistance.” 

From his seat on the sofa, the old man’s face lit up. “Really? Oh, thank you, Master. That’s very kind of you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” said Nandor, awkwardly baring his teeth. 

Benji shuffled out of the room with the help of his cane, though not before whispering a rather spirited “Welcome back!” to Guillermo as he passed. Guillermo gave him a tight smile and closed the door after him to afford them some privacy. 

Suddenly, for the first time that night, they were alone. No cameras, no dancing familiars, no Benji, just him and Nandor in the room together, standing several feet apart. Guillermo had spent nearly every night for the last eleven years in this exact situation, and was surprised to find that he felt truly nervous in a way he hadn’t since he’d first started working for Nandor.

Steeling himself, Guillermo approached his master and began the process of removing his clothes. First the cape, then the armor, the waistcoat, the silk cravat. The routine was the same, and yet every movement carried weight, every touch charged with something that remained unsaid between them. 

Eventually Nandor spoke, his tone careful. “Tomorrow we can move your things into the blue room, if you’d like.”

Guillermo raised an eyebrow as he placed Nandor’s cravat in its drawer. “What about Benji?”

“Don’t worry about Benji,” said Nandor, his tone making it clear that he would brook no argument. “I’ll take care of him.” 

Guillermo wasn’t sure entirely what that meant, but he got the feeling that whatever Nandor was planning on doing, he was doing it for Guillermo’s benefit. He hoped it wasn’t something bad. 

“Thank you, Master.” Guillermo opened the lid of the coffin and offered his hand expectantly to help him into it. To his surprise, Nandor didn’t take it. 

“Guillermo?” Nandor said quietly. He looked uncertain, his fingers flexing at his sides. 

“Yes, Master?”

Guillermo continued to stare quizzically at him until Nandor slowly raised his forearms, palms out in invitation. His dark eyes betrayed a hint of fragility, a tightness around the edges that ached to be soothed and reassured. 

“You may hug me now, if you wish."

Guillermo blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He should have recognized the gesture, the universal physical symbol that a person was asking to be embraced, and yet on Nandor it looked so strange, so out of place that he had missed it. 

The old Guillermo would not have questioned it, would have leapt at the opportunity without a backwards glance; the new Guillermo found his voice and managed to ask the most important question he could think of aloud:

“Why now?”

Nandor’s shoulders tightened in a shrug, though his arms did not drop from their outstretched position. 

“I wasn’t ready before,” he confessed, darting his eyes toward the doorway, and _oh;_ that was where the documentary crew would usually go. The cameras Nandor pretended not to be bothered by apparently mattered more to him than Guillermo had realized. “I am ready now. If… If you still want to, that is.”

Uncertainty flickered across Nandor’s face, sending a shooting pain straight to Guillermo's heart. He couldn’t bear to let Nandor think he had stopped wanting this for even a second. Guillermo had spent the last week repressing his feelings for his master, pretending he had moved on. He wasn’t about to do it for a moment longer. 

With a shuddering breath, Guillermo stepped into Nandor’s cool embrace. Emotion overwhelmed him as he felt long arms encircling his shoulders, drawing him against a broad chest. One of Nandor’s hands came to cradle the back of Guillermo’s head, and he felt fingers slide softly into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Guillermo couldn’t remember a time they had touched this way, with such blatant intimacy. At least, not while Nandor was sober. Guillermo expected his master to withdraw from the contact as quickly as possible, and was thus surprised when Nandor shifted only to pull him closer. 

A soft sigh fluttered the curls at his temple, and Nandor murmured into his ear, “I’ve missed you, Guillermo.”

Warmth bloomed in Guillermo’s chest and spread outwards. Nandor had said as much earlier, out on the street, but under these new circumstances the words carried a different weight to them. Guillermo was already back. Nandor didn’t have to say anything else to convince him to return, and yet he’d said this anyway. Because he meant it. Because he wanted Guillermo to hear it.

“Me too, Master,” Guillermo replied, his voice muffled against Nandor’s collar. Guillermo’s throat felt constricted. His eyes were stinging, and he knew if he didn’t put a few feet of distance between himself and Nandor right this second, he was going to lose it. 

Reluctantly, Guillermo withdrew, and Nandor released him, large hands sliding from his shoulders to his elbows and then falling away completely. 

The instant they were apart, Guillermo missed Nandor’s embrace as though he were incomplete without it. A week ago, the loss of that hug would have broken him. Now, the potential for moments such as this in the future sustained him, and gave him the strength to step away. Guillermo met Nandor’s gaze as steadily as he could, and found some of the sorrow erased from his master’s features. Not all, but some. 

“You know, orange is not a good color for you,” Nandor said, breaking the silence that had fallen around them.

Caught off guard, Guillermo laughed. “No, it’s not,” he agreed, looking down at the creamsicle colored bathrobe he had on. “I don’t think I’ll be wearing this again.”

“Good,” said Nandor, and he held out his hand for assistance into his coffin. “I prefer your ugly old granddad sweaters, anyway.”

“They can’t be that ugly if you prefer them,” Guillermo replied, his fingers tightening around Nandor’s as his master climbed the steps and lay back inside the fur-lined box. 

“I suppose you are right. At least they suit you better than this outrageous thing,” Nandor waved a hand to indicate the bathrobe before reaching for the handle on the inside of his coffin lid. He paused, and an anxious wrinkle appeared between his brows. “I will see you in the evening?” Nandor asked, gazing up into Guillermo’s face as though seeking reassurance. 

“I’ll be here, Master,” Guillermo replied.

“Good,” Nandor sighed, and he folded his arms across his chest. Guillermo slowly lowered the coffin lid before resting his hands on top of the ancient wood.

“Goodnight, Master,” he said quietly.

“Goodnight, Guillermo,” came a voice from inside the box, and then softer, as he was leaving the room, “I’m glad you are home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments greatly appreciated.


End file.
